Another Vision
by Xanderlike
Summary: They tell me I died saving the Avengers, but I don't think that's the whole story. I should probably be grateful to be alive (again) but seeing as I remember nothing before waking up red-skinned and artificial the jury's still out on that. I don't want to be a carbon copy of the Vision, but if I'm not Simon Williams who am I?
1. Chapter 1

I'm awake.

 _Awake_ is good. Awake is good because-

Uh oh.

I haven't got the faintest idea why awake is good. I have no idea how I know what _awake_ is, let alone what it means to be the opposite of awake ( _asleep? Unconscious? Dead?)_ Oh boy … None of this is making any sense.

One thing at a time.

I'm awake. I know what awake means. I know that I'm an I … a _me?_

And my nose is wrong.

I know what a nose is. I know that I have a nose- that I _should_ have a nose. The concept of having a nose (nosity? Noseness?) is not frightening or surprising.

But a fire engine red nose is _wrong._

I can't explain how I know that. I just do. I know that my nose shouldn't be red.

And I should be able to move, but I _can't_.

I wriggle my fingers. Yep. I have fingers. I count them. Ten. That's right. I make a mental check mark in the _Do you have fingers?_ box.

Toes. Toes are next. Yep. I have the standard number of toes.

Fingers and toes mean that I have arms and legs. If I have arms and legs why can't I move them?

And the fact that I can tell my red nose (and why is "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" suddenly playing in my head?) is wrong indicates that a) I have eyes and b) I have color vision.

So since I have eyes, I try to look and see more than my nose …

Okay. I'm in a lab. At least I assume that's what all those cameras and computers and scientific instruments mean. My head is secured so I'm looking out of the corner of my eyes. (Add a check in the _Do you have a head?_ box.) Does that make me a lab rat?

 _Or a Frankenstein's Monster …?_

I have to get out of here … wherever _here_ is.

I try to move my arms and legs again. No go. I'm still stuck … but this time I can _feel_ the restraints that are keeping me from sitting up, moving, or seeing the rest of my body.

Okay. I'm not paralyzed, but the restraints do lend credence to the theory that some hunchbacked lab assistant is going to show up any second now saying, "Master! Master! It's alive! It's alive!"

I don't want to be here when that happens.

I grit my teeth (hey, I have _teeth_ ) and try to free my hands. One of the restraints snaps, and my left arm is freed. My right remains securely bound and I can't seem to get any purchase with my left hand to free my right … because my left hand is going _through_ the restraint .. and the arm beneath it.

That's not normal.

Don't ask me how I knew that wasn't normal, but I did.

My left hand feels … _funny._ Like I'm slipping it into a bucket of ice water that has warm water underneath it.

Maybe I can make the rest of me feel that way so I can flip free of these restraints …

I do it. I don't know how I do it any more than you think about how you tie your shoes. I just _will_ myself to be intangible.

 _Intangible!_ That's the word! That's what my left hand is! I feel almost giddy with knowledge. Like air or smoke …

 _Smoke. Be like smoke …_

And that _funny_ feeling in my left hand is suddenly throughout my entire body. The restraints are like ice water but I flow free of them and I _hover_ in the air. I'm afraid … afraid that I'm going to drift apart like smoke … but I don't.

I _drift_ away from the table. _No more smoke. Good old solid flesh please …_

And just like that, I'm _solid_ again.

I look down at myself and I'm wearing a costume.

It's green. Green body suit. A yellow belt. Yellow gloves and boots. And I'm wearing a cape.

A cape?

Who wears a cape?

Well, obviously _I_ do … but … why?

I'm up and I'm free. I don't know where I am. I know that I should get the heck out of Dodge.

There's a door. It's shut, and it's sealed, and I've got no doubt that it's locked. That won't mean much to me, I know. I'm pretty sure that I can walk- or float- through the door if I need to.

And yet … we don't need no stinkin' door when we can walk through matter, do we?

I wrap my hands in my cape … hm … maybe that's what it's for … and walk _through_ the wall.

 _Be like smoke. Be like smoke …_

Metal is cold. Plastic is warmer … not as warm as flesh or even wood … but it's warmer than metal. Say, should a wall be this thick?

And I'm out.

This isn't a house.

Or a hospital.

It feels compoundy. It's got the feel of a place that wasn't meant to be what it is. Now why does that feel so damn familiar?

I'm out in the middle of a hallway. I'm too exposed. And that is probably a bad thing given that someone had left me strapped to an operating table. If I'm seen there could be trouble …

Oh, who am I kidding? There's _bound_ to be trouble.

But I should make sure that it's at a place and time of my choosing.

I could try to escape … but without knowing the lay of the land I could be running right into the very same trouble I was trying to get away from. For all I knew we were a thousand feet underground surrounded by boiling hot lava. Or at the depths of the ocean or in outer space.

First thing to do is to get out of this hallway. Next is to learn where I am. Then I can decide how to escape.

Which way to go? Up down, left or right?

I mentally toss a coin (and yes, I realize I know what a coin is) and sink into the floor.

 _Be like smoke. Be like smoke …_

Two floors down I find myself in a bathroom.

It's newish. New toilet, shower and bathtub. Sink. There's toothpaste. Toothbrush. Combs and brushes. Towels. The usual stuff you'd find in a bathroom, including a mirror. There's a clothes hamper but I resist the urge to open it.

Instead I look at the mirror. More specifically, I look _into_ the mirror. I look into the mirror at my reflection.

A red .. crimson, maybe? … face looks back at me. (I sorta expected that; only reindeer have _just_ a red nose). I look youngish, I decide. Not ugly, though the green eyes are kinda weird- it's like I have cameras in my eyes or something. I open my mouth to show off perfect white teeth and a normal shaped tongue.

I'm apparently bald because there's no way _any_ hair can fit underneath that green headpiece I'm wearing.

That doesn't feel _right_ either. I should have hair. I don't know how or why I think that, but I'm terribly disappointed that I don't have hair.

I'm still looking at myself when the door to the bathroom swings open and a girl walks through it still wearing pajamas. Red pajamas.

She's gorgeous.

Brown hair with a hint of red. Lips that look made to be kissed. Eyes that make me want to write sappy poetry about.

And a smokin' hot body.

Those gorgeous lips opened in surprise … but no fear at seeing a six foot tall red skinned man wearing a green and yellow costume in her bathroom.

Oh well.

At least she hadn't seen me checking my package out … (not that I was going to do anything like that. Only a terribly insecure guy would check his package out first thing after waking up and not recognizing himself in the mirror.)

"Um, hi." I give her a half-hearted wave and smile.

"Simon!" she said with a pleased smile. "You're awake!" And she rushes forward to give me a hug. She raps her arms around me and holds me tightly in her arms.

All things considered, it's the highlight of my day so far.

Of course as much as I want it to last, I don't. I find myself saying three little words that cause the girl to back away from me in horror and surprise. Three little words...

"Simon? Who's Simon?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Simon Williams. The Wonder Man. The latest Avenger … and the first to fall in battle."

Video. Images of a man in a green and red costume. Tall as Captain America. Muscular as Thor. Strong enough to hold his own against the man-monster Abomination.

Fighting alongside the Avengers. Ripping open an overturned burning semi truck to get the driver out before it blows up. Holding up a wall while Captain America and Black Widow evacuate the building before it falls down. Doing half a dozen heroic things in as many minutes.

Yep. No doubt about it. The guy had been a real hero.

But Dear Lord … that _costume?_ It looked like a Christmas Tree!

I'm looking at the video while the Avengers are watching me. Wanda- the Scarlet Witch- is in uniform now. Clint Barton- Hawkeye- is running the computer that's showing me the video. Captain America is watching me. So's the Black Widow.

I pretend not to notice.

"Does any of this ring a bell?" Hawkeye finally asks me.

"No." I look again at the images on the screen. "I don't remember any of this."

The Vision floats through the wall to join us. Somehow it seems creepy when he does it. "I warned you all there was a risk that his memories would not transfer when I made the attempt."

We're not identical. His skin's more purple than mine. His facial features are different.

I look back at the screen. Hawkeye's done something and another picture comes up. This time Wonder Man isn't wearing that goofy helmet. He looks pretty young … we have the same nose.

Of course _he_ has hair …

"How did he die?"

"What?" Wanda asks softly.

"How did he- I?- die? He looks to be nearly as strong and tough as the Hulk. How does someone like that die?"

"You're _certain_ you don't remember?" Captain America asked me.

"Super hero's honor." For whatever that's worth.

The Avengers exchange glances with each other. I try not to act offended. I mean, they apparently did save my life. Or give me life. Or both. I'm not totally sure.

"He was killed in battle with the Masters of Evil," Black Widow says finally.

"You're kidding."

"What?"

"Someone actually calls themselves the Masters of Evil?"

"It's no joke!" Suddenly I'm pinned against the wall by red energy. Wanda (why do I keep calling her that?) is glaring at me with eyes that are burning with the same light. "Simon died for us! He died for me!"

 _Be like smoke …_

Energy is a lot less easy to get out of than steel in case you're wondering. It actually hurt. A lot. But I didn't think it was a good idea to be pinned like a butterfly …

"Wanda," Vision says gently. "He _is_ Simon. He is all that's left of Simon..."

"He is _nothing_ like Simon." Wanda's eyes return to normal. "Simon was a hero. Simon was my … friend." She casts a withering glance at me. "You will _never_ be Simon Williams."

And she walks away.

Oh crud.

She hates me.

God, I'm depressed.

I'm an artificial man, a duplicate of a dead hero, and the thing that's depressing me is that the hot girl I just met doesn't like me...

I'm a sick sick man … android. Robot. Whatever the heck I am.

"You're not what I was expecting," Black Widow tells me. She's certainly pretty, and not all that much older than Wanda … but she's far too scary for me to be attracted to her.

Much.

"What were you expecting?" I asked her.

"I expected you to be like Simon. Or not to be here at all." She glances over at the Vision who's hovering in mid-air. "Or like Vision."

"What was Simon like?"

"He was ..." and she looks at Captain America.

"Simon Williams died a hero," Captain America finally announces. "Like Wanda said, he saved us all. He was a good man."

So … anyone else get the feeling they're hiding something or is it just me?

"So … Simon 'Wonder Man' Williams died saving the rest of you, and the Vision decided to backup his mind." I looked down at myself. "And you just happened to have a spare body lying around?"

"We had the Cradle that was used to create the Vision's body. The process that created you was a bit more … involved."

"We didn't have a Thunder God to jump start the process," Hawkeye says. "So it took a long time. We weren't even sure it worked until you showed up in Wanda's bathroom."

I look back at the door. "She doesn't like me much does she?"

"She and Simon were getting … close when he died." Black Widow looks over at the Vision. "Is there any chance that he will recall his life as Simon later?"

"I really have no idea," Vision confesses. "I've never tempted anything like this before. The human mind isn't like a data file that can be downloaded at will. We were perhaps more fortunate than we had reason to hope for. Wanda has telepathic abilities. Perhaps she will be able to help Simon recall his old life ..."

"Yeah. I don't know that letting her into my brain is a good idea just now. Maybe later." I suddenly yawned. "Whoa. Suddenly I feel all … tired ..."

"Your body needs energy," Vision tells me, taking my arm. "Come, Simon. I will instruct you on how to recharge."

"That sounds like a good idea," I agreed, letting him lead me toward the door that Wanda had just left. As we left, I heard the Avengers whispering to each other. I didn't let on because what they were saying was very interesting … and disturbing.

"Do you think he's faking?" Hawkeye murmurs.

"No," Captain America says firmly. "I don't think he remembers a thing about what really happened."

"And if he _does_ remember later ..." the Black Widow asks quietly.

"If he remember in time we'll deal with it." I'm not looking back at them, but I can _feel_ Cap's eyes on me. "We'll deal with him..."


	3. Chapter 3

_Apparently androids dream of things other than electric sheep because I'm having one now._

 _Wait. Do humans know when they're dreaming?_

 _I'm in an office with a man. He's older … perhaps his early 50s. He's mad. He's got a golf club in his hands and he's smashed everything breakable in the office. I'm worried that he's going to start on me next._

 _"Daddy ..."_

 _He drops the club and sits in a chair in front of the desk. He takes a bottle out of the drawer. A bottle and a gun. "Everything, Simon. Stark took everything. My company. My patents. Everything I was going to leave you and your brother. It's all gone. I've got nothing left."_

 _"Daddy..." I'm afraid. Afraid for myself. Afraid for him._

 _"I can't provide for you anymore, Simon. Or your mother or brother. And a man who can't take care of his family isn't a man at all any more." He drains the bottle and picks up the pistol._

 _"Daddy, no! It's not your fault! It's Stark's! I'll make him pay, Daddy! I'll make him-"_

 _And the gun goes off._

 _I'm still screaming when she wakes me._

"Are you all right? I could hear you screaming in my room..."

Wanda.

"I'm fine. I was dreaming. Or having a nightmare. Yeah. Definitely a nightmare."

"What was it about?"

I shudder slightly. "My past." I look at her and give a crooked smile. "Or Simon's past. As you said, I'm not Simon."

She looks uncomfortable.

I look at the clock. "It's early. Or late. Did I wake you?"

"I couldn't sleep. I had a nightmare of my own." She shrugs. "I was going to take a walk. It helps sometimes. Would you like to come with me?"

A night time walk with a pretty girl?

Oh yeah. That was definitely better than sleep. I can sleep when I'm dead. Again.

"Sure."

I'm still wearing my green and yellow bodysuit but my cloak is on the chair next to my bed. (Is it my bed or just a guest bed? Do I have a room? Am I a guest or a prisoner?)

I decide not to think about what I heard Captain America to say to Black Widow. I decide not to wonder if I have an off switch I don't know about. Apparently I'm not as good at not thinking about things as I'd like to think because I did wonder what would happen if I left without permission.

I was guessing something I wouldn't like.

I slip my cloak on. I just don't feel right about walking around without it. "Let's go."

She's wearing a red leather overcoat, but she still shivers slightly as we walk out of the complex and into the night air. "It's cold out."

"Is it?" I'm aware of the temperature difference, but it's no more or less uncomfortable than it is inside the building. "Guess I'm not built to notice."

"There are some advantages to being artificial I see." Wanda smiles at me.

God, I adore that smile. She's not smiled much since I met her, but she does it so well.

Yeah, yeah. I know. I've got it bad.

"It's a lovely night," I finally say. _Not half as lovely as you,_ I want to add, but don't. It sounds cheesy even to me.

"We're far enough from the city here to have the stars available to us. If we were in the city you would not see them." She smiles. "Even in my home of Sorkovia there was too much light at night to see the stars." She frowns. "At least until the war started. After that, Pietro and I didn't have much time to look at the sky. We were too busy trying to stay alive."

"Pietro?" The name's familiar. Her boyfriend? Please don't let it be her boyfriend …

"My brother." She closes her eyes. "He's … he's gone now."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you." She looks at me, and I see the tears in her eyes. "He's … he was my twin. It's been … difficult without him."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. He died saving Hawkeye and a child. I miss him. I miss him every day. But some days … some nights … are harder than others. What were you dreaming about?"

"Like I said, something about Simon's past." It's strange … to have another person's memories for your own, but only when you're asleep. "I don't even know if it's true or not." In my gut- or what passes for my gut- I know that I'm not telling her the truth. It happened- Simon's father died. Simon's father killed himself in front of me … him.

And Tony Stark's to blame.

There's anger.

Simon's anger.

My anger?

Is there a difference? Who am I? _What_ am I?

"Are you remembering your past now?" Her eyes were warm and sympathetic.

"Not exactly. At least not consciously. It was … not something I care to think about right now. A childhood memory." Does she know about my father? ( _Simon's_ father?) "What was he like? Simon? Wonder Man?"

"He wasn't with us for very long." Wanda sighs. "But he was a good man. At the end."

Does that mean he wasn't a good man at the beginning? How much do I ask? How much do I want to know?

She smiles slightly. "But … you're different."

"Good different or bad different?"

She purses her lips and I find myself wondering what it'd be like to kiss them …

And she blushes slightly as though she knows what I'm thinking. Oh. I suddenly remember- though from where the memory comes- that she _is_ able to read minds. Great.

"Different different." Again she smiles. "Simon was … darker. He didn't smile as much. His mind … his powers made it hard for me to read him.."

"But android me is an open book?"

She smiles and reaches out to touch my cheek. "I can sense your confusion but reading thoughts is more complicated than you might think. You … there is such lightness in your thoughts. It's as though some great weight has been lifted off your mind. Simon was … complicated. You're ..."

"Simple?"

"Not like that." She giggles and lets her hand drop from my face. "You're not Simon. You don't have to be Simon. You might be happier if you never become Simon."

I shrug. "I may not have a choice. He might come back to me whether or not I want him to."

"There was a risk in what Vision attempted. We had no idea what would happen, but we determined that it was worth the risk. I won't lie to you. We were afraid we might be creating a monster- that you would hate us for what we made you. That we might be creating another Ultron. But ..." She smiles. "The Vision decided that it was worth the risk."

"Do you think he was right?"

"I am beginning to think so."

Again the urge to tell her that she's beautiful wells up in within me, but I hold back. We're having a moment. I don't want to ruin that …

"You know, the night isn't half as lovely as you … Er, did I say that aloud?"

She laughs. "Thank you. It's been a while since I've gotten such a compliment."

"I find that hard to believe ..."

"Super heroes do not exactly have much time to engage in a social life I have discovered. I have not been on a date since I came to the United States."

"Oh, so something to look forward to... if you're not too busy."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Um, hopefully..."

"In that case ..."

"Everything all right?" Black Widow asks as she seems to melt out of the shadows.

"We're fine," Wanda says. She gives me an apologetic smile. "I think I've had enough fresh air. Good night, my friend. We can finish our discussion another time."

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Date-blocked by the Black Widow … And I really think she might have said yes, too …

The Black Widow bids Wanda good night and then looks at me. There's the ghost of a smile on her lovely face that is really aggravating.

"Good night," I finally say as I head back to the complex.

"Try a cold shower," Black Widow calls out after me. "I think you're overheating ..."

Grr.

Smart remarks are only fun when _I_ make them …


End file.
